


Martyr Mimed

by Miss_Emmie



Series: Marie Alternette [2]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: F/F, Hypnosis, Mime TF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:18:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Emmie/pseuds/Miss_Emmie
Summary: The proud and noble Jeanne d'Arc finds herself reduced to a mute mime.





	Martyr Mimed

Jeanne d’Arc was speechless. 

 

She had fallen asleep, which she never did, and awakened in what could only be a French palace. 

 

She wandered the halls, until she encountered a familiar figure. 

 

“Emperor Nero,” she said to the Roman’s back, which was recognizable even though her bright red dress was not a very plain black and white. “Do you know where we are?”

 

The Emperor turned, and Jeanne could see that all of the arrogance, pride, and confidence had left her eyes. Now, she was docile and obedient. And she appeared to be dressed as a maid. She was even using a feather duster to clean. “Servant: Ruler. True Name: Jeanne d’Arc. Greetings. I serve Queen Marie Alternette. Will you agree to serve her?”

 

Jeanne blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” 

 

“Understanding is unnecessary, only obedience. Shall you obey?”

 

Backing away, Jeanne called her flag to her hand. “I’ll free you from the influence of this Queen Alternette, Nero. Do not worry.” 

 

As Jeanne turned and began to run, Nero slashed her feather duster like a sword, a gust of wind blowing Jeanne off her feet, sending her flying down the hall. 

 

Stumbling forward as her feet returned to the ground, Jeanne did not notice that some of the color had faded from her golden hair. 

 

As Nero swung her feather duster again, Jeanne ducked through a nearby door. 

 

The door slammed shut behind her, blown closed by the wind from Nero’s attack. 

 

Jeanne found herself in a throne room, and a familiar figure stood beside an empty throne. 

 

“Jalter?” Jeanne gasped, shocked to find the missing Servant here. “What’s going on?” 

 

“I request you not call me by that name, as I no longer use it. Refer to me as Jeanne. As for your question, I believe you have trespassed upon the halls of my queen. Bend the knee, or face punishment.” Jalter strode forward, a parasol in one hand, speaking with crisp, proper language. 

 

“You would never allow someone else to control you. I’ll free you from this queen, Jalter. I swear upon our grave. So allow me to pass, so I may defeat this Queen Alternette.” She gripped her flag tightly in her hands. 

 

“Ohohohohoho,” Jalter laughed, “I shall enjoy breaking this will of yours, you simple farm girl.” She spun on one of her heels, opening her parasol, and white fire raining down from the air. 

 

Jeanne glanced up, swinging her flag above her head, blocking the fire before it reached her. She spun it around in her hands, lunging at Jalter. 

 

Jalter closed her parasol, and lunged to meet Jeanne, the two attacks slamming into each other with white sparks flying everywhere. Jeanne struggled to push against Jalter, while Jalter smiled curtly and did not even break a sweat. “All this struggling is so unladylike, my dear sister. You really are just a trumped up farm girl.” 

 

“I won’t deny that, but there’s nothing wrong with it. Anyone can rise above their station.” 

 

“Ohohohoho. You say such silly things. But don’t worry, the Head Maid will fix that problem for you.” 

 

Jeanne glanced behind her, and saw that Nero had come through the doorway. 

 

The Empress-turned-maid did not smile, or gloat. She simply held up her feather duster, ready to do her job. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a blast of wind towards Jeanne, blowing all the color from the Saint’s hair and clothing. 

 

With another flick, all the words were blown from Jeanne, and she could no longer preach or pray. 

 

As Jeanne’s strength faded, she buckled under Jalter’s attack, and she was consumed by white fire. 

 

There was no stench of burning, but instead a flowery perfume that filled the air. 

 

When the fires faded, Jeanne stood wearing a tight outfit of black and white stripes, her face painted white and her lips with black lipstick. There was not a word in her mouth or a thought in her head. 

 

With a vacant smile, she began to mime a box around her, before walking into the side of the box and falling on her bottom. 

 

“Ohohohoho, this role suits you much better, my dear sister.” 

 

Jeanne opened the box, put up a ladder, and climbed into the air one step at a time. 

 

When she reached the ceiling, she opened an invisible trap door, climbed up it, and crawled out of the floor in front of Jalter. 

 

“Ohohohoho, what a silly trick. I am quite certain that the Queen will enjoy this far more than your silly, meaningless preaching.” 

 

Nero bowed, returning to her work, while Jalter sat on the arm of the Queen’s throne, awaiting her mistress’ return. She fanned herself while watching Jeanne continue her mime routine, no longer interested in anything but silently putting on a silly show. 

 


End file.
